


Mickey Does Romance

by OmniscientProstitute



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniscientProstitute/pseuds/OmniscientProstitute
Summary: Mickey tries his hand at romance for the first time.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 182





	Mickey Does Romance

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place some time at the end of season 10, but Mickey is still mildly emotionally constipated.

Mickey was unflappable. He had stared down the barrel of a gun being aimed by his own father, cracked a joke with a knife to his neck, walked away from a beating so bad it broke his bones. He was a Milkovich, trained to meet every scenario with a straight face or a sneer. And even though Terry had trained his children to be the toughest Mother Fuckers in the neighborhood, he hadn’t prepared his spawn for The Gallaghers. When he was trapped in a house with the whole brood, Mickey felt intimidated. He would never admit to that sentiment, but the way in which the Gallagher siblings were easily tactile with each other was jarring. They fought, verbally and physically, much like the Milkovich siblings did, but the violence could dissipate as fast as it appeared. Mickey once watched Ian and Lip go from ripping each other’s heads off to lighthearted play fighting in seconds without any indication as to why the mood shifted. There was no verbal apology or admittance of guilt, just an invisible understanding. Mickey had puzzled over that for hours after everyone went to bed. In the Milkovich household grudges and arguments were clung to and savored. The more salt you could rub into a wound the better. Conflicts never resolved; they just festered. The most off putting thing about the Gallaghers was how often they said they loved each other. The phrase “love you” was normally thrown out after one of the weird fights they got into. And, Fiona and Debbie weren’t the only ones who said it. Carl had tossed a casual “love you” at Debbie after a scuffle over money. Most Gallagher fights were over money. Mickey still wasn’t fully comfortable with the casual verbal affection. Love was the Milkovich version of a swear word.

Being integrated into the Gallagher household put a lot of things about Ian into perspective. Gave Mickey clarity about a lot of Ian’s behaviors that had always confused him. Even when their relationship consisted of nothing but fucking, Ian had never given a second thought to grabbing Mickey’s hand or fixing Mickey’s hair or helping Mickey get dressed/undressed. Mickey now understood that came from growing up in an environment that didn’t punish that kind of behavior. Ian was gentle with Debbie in a way that Mickey had never been with Mandy. It was all so public and so shameless. Ian could ask for hugs, kisses, and cuddles from Mickey in front of his siblings without batting an eye. Mickey still struggled to ask for a blowjob when they were completely alone.

Mickey felt broken in the presence of the Gallaghers, like he didn’t know how to love correctly. He didn’t know how to be gentle. He didn’t know how to communicate his feelings without getting pissed off and resorting to bruising kisses. Ian had done a great job learning how to speak Mickey: reading body language, sorting through sarcasm and threats, deciphering facial features that most people just read as pissed off. Mickey often wished he could communicate the way Ian did; it seemed so much easier than floundering around the word “love” like an idiot. He often pondered over he and Ian’s relationship, wondering if it would be better, if Mickey wasn’t emotionally constipated. He’d be able to reassure Ian of his love when the people were saying shit and offer Ian some relief when he was sore after work. He literally had to work up courage to call Ian his boyfriend when they were out as a couple. He even wanted to do some romantic shit for Ian without blowing it off as unimportant because their relationship was incredibly important to Mickey. Sometimes it felt like the only thing he had keeping him afloat.

\---------

“Morning, Mick.” Mickey jumped, sloshing his coffee as strong arms wrapped around his shoulder. Ian nuzzled his nose into Mickey’s neck. The redhead’s body was still warm and pliant from having just woken up. It acted like a heating pad on Mickey’s tense shoulders.

“Mornin’.” Mickey consciously brought his hand up to ruffle the red hair tickling his jaw. “Want me to make you eggs to take with your meds?” Mickey felt Ian smile against his neck.

“Nah, I’m just going to get some cereal.” Ian pecked Mickey on the lips before folding himself into the Gallagher kitchen shuffle.

“Hey Debbie, you made those cookies for the Debate Club sleepover tonight, right?” Liam asked, hurrying through the kitchen.

“Yeah. They’re in the bag next to your backpack. I don’t need you to watch Frannie tonight, Ian.”

“Are you sure? It really wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Lip said he wants to spend some time with her before he and Tami head up to Milwaukee.”

“Alright. Have you heard anything from Carl about coming home this weekend?”

“I think he said something about needing to stay on campus for something. Wouldn’t elaborate.”

“That’s probably for the best.” Ian slid into the seat across from Mickey and hooked their feet together under the table. Mickey shot Ian a look but didn’t pull back or say anything. He might not be able to initiate affection, but at least he could encourage it. “Are you still planning to work late at the garage?”

“Yeah, hoping I can trick Johnson into giving me a pay bump.”

“It’s not a trick if you deserve it.” Mickey sipped his coffee like the praise didn’t affect him. “You’re a great mechanic, Mick. It’ll work out.”

\----------

The shop was quiet, well as quiet as an Auto Repair Shop could get. Essentially, Mickey didn’t have to strain his ears to hear the radio playing from his boss’s office. Not that he really wanted to listen to the two moronic DJs talking about celebrity gossip. Mickey had finished the last of his projects, a dented rear door and replacing a broken strut, and the only thing that had rolled through the door in the five hours he’d been there was a woman who needed her tires rotated. Even though Mickey was getting paid to do it, he hated sitting around. With nothing to focus on, his mind wandered to things like how he and Ian were going to have the house to themselves that evening, and how it would be the perfect opportunity to try his hand at romance. Well, on purpose romance. Ian claimed Mickey did romantic things, but they were never planned. Making sure Ian had his prescriptions up to date, picking up orange juice from the store, and keeping a picture in his wallet wasn’t the same as sweeping someone off their feet. Mickey wanted to do the kind of romantic stuff that Mandy used to swoon over.

“Milkovich!” Mickey looked up to see his boss standing in the door of his office. “Nothing big is going to come in this late in the evening, get the fuck out of here.” Mickey was torn about losing a couple hours of pay, but it also meant that Mickey would be home before Ian.

“Get me something good for tomorrow.”

\----------

Mickey was nervous. He had passed Lip on his way into the house, managing to dodge any questions about the bag of groceries he was carrying while simultaneously convincing Lip to keep Frannie in the RV for the night. He had to suffer through a little light ribbing, but Ian was worth it. God, he was turning into such a sap. 

First, Mickey took a shower. He used the soap Ian bought special for him because it was supposed to work really well at getting grease and oil off the skin. One of the things that Mickey hated about working at the shop was how it always felt like he had an extra layer of skin made of filth. It hit a little too close to back when he was a filthy kid running around, being an asshole, and doing everything his dad told him too. He still remembered Veronica referring to him as “the dirtiest white boy” she had ever seen. The warm water also helped him relax. He still found it sorta stupid, but Ian once told Mickey about how he likes to pretend the water was washing away all of the stress of the day. Like it was physically melting away the tension in his muscles. When he got out, he opted for his nice pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt because dressing up would put too much pressure on him. He was just doing something nice for the man he loved.

Next, he went down to the kitchen and pulled out all of the stuff he had bought on his way home. Mickey had never really cooked before. He could heat up pizza roles and pour flavoring into microwave ramen. He had even had some success grilling, but he’d never actually cooked anything. He figured spaghetti and meatballs couldn’t be too hard. Boil the water and stick the noodles in. Roll some meat into a ball. Couldn’t be that hard, and Mickey had looked up a recipe. He had spent more than was comfortable on the ingredients and didn’t want to fuck it up. 

The recipe ended up being a good idea. Who knew you were supposed to put salt in the boiling water, or that it tastes better if the meatballs are in the sauce while it's simmering. Mickey found that he particularly enjoyed cooking. He had always liked doing things with his hands. And much like working on a car, when all the hard work was done there was physical proof. Spaghetti and meatballs didn’t exactly purr like a restored engine, but it did taste good. The closer it got to Ian’s arrival time, the more excited and antsy Mickey got. He ended up wiping down the entire kitchen and even debated which beer would go best with the meal. Mickey only felt comfortable giving Ian one beer with his medication, so he liked giving him something better than Coors or Miller Lite.

Ian came in through the front door. Mickey exited the kitchen to find him pulling off his shoes. “It smells really good in here.” Ian murmured before meeting Mickey for a welcome home kiss. “And, you’re home early.”

“Shop was dead, so I made dinner.” Mickey put in extra effort to not sound like he was brushing the gesture off. Ian’s eyes widened in surprise before softening to the puppy dog eyes Mickey was used to. “Go get changed. Food will be done when you get down.” Mickey was kind of glad Ian went up the stairs in the living room instead of going through the kitchen. It meant the first time Ian saw the food would be as it was meant to be presented. 

MIckey was a little worried that the meatballs were too big and looked awkward on the plate, but he knew Ian wouldn’t care about the balls being too big. He was just fixing his own plate when Ian came down stairs. He was wearing his gray sweatpants that Mickey loved because they made his ass look good. “This looks amazing. Did you make all of this from scratch?”

“Everything but the pasta.” Mickey took the same seat as he had that morning, across from Ian. “I had to buy Parmesan cheese and vegetables. It took me fifteen minutes to figure out what the fuck parsley was.” Ian smiled at Mickey’s ranting but interrupted the rest of the spiel by moaning at the spaghetti in his mouth. The sound made Mickey’s mouth go dry. It wasn’t necessarily a sexual sound but a satisfied sound. Mickey didn’t realize how nervous he was about Ian liking the food.

“Mickey.” Ian’s eyes were dancing with happiness and love. It was a look Mickey usually felt self-conscious about when it was leveled at him. And, it normally made him squirm when Ian said his name with that warm tone, like Mickey was the only thing Ian needed to be happy. But, he let it happen because he was being romantic, Goddammit. So, he took the hand Ian stretched across the table and finished the meal one-handed. The physical contact seemed to appease Ian because their conversation strayed back into normal territory. They talked about their days and other mundane things. Every once in a while Ian would squeeze Mickey’s hand, signalling that he was having more sappy thoughts. Mickey didn’t say anything because his thoughts were pretty sappy too. 

Ian offered to do the dishes since Mickey cooked. Surprisingly it didn’t ruin the soft tension that had been building up during the meal. The little bit of breathing room actually made the mood snap into something a little more sexual. He could see Ian’s back muscles move through his thin white T-shirt as he packaged their leftover food. Whenever Mickey looked at Ian, he would feel the strong desire to touch him. It was the strongest when Ian was doing something physical, but Mickey only ever really got to feel Ian’s body move when they were having sex. He had never been brave enough. But, this evening was about facing his romance fears, and that included initiating non-sexual contact.

Ian froze when Mickey’s open palms smoothed down his back. “Keep going.” Ian hummed in confusion but continued to spoon the spaghetti into refrigerator friendly containers. Had Ian been doing push-ups or lifting weights the flexing would have been more pronounced. But, even just the fluid motion of washing dishes hinted at how strong Ian was. He could probably overpower Mickey easily whenever he wanted. He never did and never would, unless Mickey wanted him to, but the potential was incredibly sexy. Most of that wasn’t even the physical strength, but the short military training he received. It was a little more refined than the street style combat Mickey employed, where the goal was to hit first and hit the hardest. Mickey moved his hands from Ian’s shoulder blades down to his lower back and finally around his sides to rest on Ian’s abdomen. Besides the feeling of power and control that came from riding Ian, Mickey loved the position because it gave him full access to Ian’s body. He’d splay his hands across Ian’s pale chest for leverage and feel all the ways Mickey effected Ian’s body. He could feel Ian tense before every thrust. 

Mickey detached himself when Ian moved to store the Tupperware in the fridge but moved in for a deep kiss as soon as the chore was done. It was a confident kiss, and it got them both softly moaning. Ian’s large hands were splayed across Mickey’s lower back, pulling his body into Ian’s. Mickey’s tattooed hands were grabbing at Ian’s head dragging him down. They were at the tipping point. If Mickey pushed up onto his toes and bit at Ian’s lips, it would spur on a night of rough passion and boiling heat on the kitchen floor. But if he pulled back and playfully bumped his nose against Ian’s, they would drag each other upstairs for full body sex that would make Mickey simmer with love. God, he really wanted that slow sex, where he could feel every pull and push of Ian’s cock buried deep inside of him. The languid pace would allow them to kiss and touch in ways their normal romps didn’t allow them to. “Wanna’ take this upstairs.” 

\--------

The sex was just as sweet as Mickey had hoped it was going to be. Ian was thrusting into him smooth and hard, and he was doing the thing where every time his hips met Mickey’s ass Ian would circle his hips, grinding his dick into Mickey’s prostate. It was an amazing feeling that made Mickey clench and moan long and loud. It was doubly amazing because Ian always responded with his own low groan. It wasn’t very loud, Ian was never very vocal in sexual situations, but Mickey had become incredibly skilled at not only hearing his boyfriends noises but deciphering them. The brief moan was a sign of frustration. They had been going at love-making speed for a while. It admittedly felt good and allowed Ian to leave a necklace of hickies along Mickey’s collar, but there was no way they would both get off from it. 

On the next thrust Mickey dragged Ian’s mouth down to his. The kiss was filthy and slobbery and Mickey ended it by sinking his teeth into Ian’s lower lip. “Fuck me.” Mickey tugged at the long red hair at the top of Ian’s head. “Give it to me good and hard.” Ian let out an audible moan at that. It was a higher pitch than usual, and Mickey prepared to get his soul fucked out of his body. After close to an hour of foreplay, neither man lasted very long. The sudden switch in speed and intensity practically forced Mickey’s orgasm out of him. He then hooked his nails into the meat of Ian’s shoulders and took the last round of thrusts as Ian found his own release.

Ian peppered Mickey’s face with kisses as he pulled out, making Mickey laugh. They cleaned up, caught their breath, and settled back into the bed with their arms wrapped around each other. “Tonight was really nice.” Ian murmured into the night. His eyes were closed and a soft intimate smile graced his lips. “Real romantic, Mick.” Mickey just pressed a kiss to Ian’s cheek and let his own eyes fall shut.


End file.
